


Wait for Me

by Dulcinea



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Dirty Talk, Domination/submission, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Top Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27943433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: Their game always started with a note.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Wait for Me

It always started with a note. Vegeta liked subtlety, but more than that, he loved a good challenge. Goku learned early on in their relationship that the man didn’t like to blatantly say what he wanted outright. Not that it was too much for him. Far from it. Vegeta would say what was on his mind when it came to other things. But with them—the bedroom in particular—Vegeta spoke a different language, one that varied from their actual Saiyan language. 

He spoke in looks, in touches, his body language, and in physical items, like the note, and other things, like leaving clues that Goku had to find and figure out. In the beginning, he didn’t get the appeal. It was fine that Vegeta expressed himself in ways that weren’t words. That wasn’t the problem. It was when Vegeta was in the mood that irked Goku. If Vegeta wanted sex, why didn’t he just ask for it like Goku did? It made no sense, and it peeved Goku rotten, especially when he _wanted_ to be with Vegeta intimately, but Vegeta was all about this dumb game. 

But Goku got the appeal finally one night, and it was when Vegeta left him a note, just like the one waiting for him now on his pillow. It was straight forward, blunt, no nonsense, and Goku got it. He figured out the other clues after, adding to the chase, to the build, and when he finally figured out what Vegeta wanted, Goku reaped the benefits that night and _then_ some. 

It was addicting. A new type of challenge. A rush and a thrill when he had a note waiting for him somewhere in the house, usually in the bedroom. The joy he felt when he found the clues. The elation when he found the answer for that night. The pride and lust from Vegeta all for him, all because of him, and the way Vegeta rewarded him, every single time. 

Goku couldn’t get enough of it. These games made his mind work as hard as his body in a tough spar. He felt himself getting better mentally, figuring out the clues faster, getting to the answers quicker, to the point where even Vegeta admitted to him one time that it was getting harder to trick him. He loved it. Loved their game. Loved that Vegeta started this between them—not just the game, but their relationship that was now three years strong. A relationship that started all from one too many fights, one too many punches, a relationship birthed in breaking a boundary, nurtured by need, alive and thriving to this day, and kept strong because of this addicting game.

He walked into the bedroom right for that folded paper square on his pillow, just waiting for him. His fingers itched at his sides, his body thrumming with nervous, excited energy. 

The bed squeaked a little as he sat beside the pillow. He picked up the note and unfurled it in his slightly trembling hands. 

His breath hitched at the words scribbled in Saiya-go. 

_Wait for me._

He glanced back at the pillow and noticed a peak of black cloth tucked underneath the edge of the case. 

Goku gulped. 

The note fluttered to the ground.

A few minutes later, he finished folding his orange gi, laying them down in a corner of their bedroom. He trembled from head to toe as he walked back to the large king-sized bed, crawled his way to the middle of it and laid back to stare at the ceiling

This one. Of all the things Vegeta could’ve chosen from. It was this one. 

He tightened his fingers around the black cloth.

It was the only time he failed their game. Unlike earlier games in the past, this one wasn’t a clue but an order, just like this one. A simple request and Goku figured it would be easy enough. But time had gone by so slowly that Goku lost track of it, to the point where his mind started playing tricks on him and his worry overpowered all senses of logic. Sensing ki only made matters worse. He couldn’t feel Vegeta anywhere. He didn’t know where Vegeta was. He knew he was supposed to wait, the note said so, was even more explicit than the note Vegeta gave him today. It told him then to lay back, put the blindfold on, be naked and wait for him when he was good and ready. Their first adventure in power dynamics. 

But Goku failed, terribly. He panicked and flipped out and tracked down Vegeta’s ki and transmitted himself there, all because his mind played tricks on him that Vegeta wasn’t coming, he should’ve come by now, why wasn’t he coming, did something bad happen to him, was it something wrong, was he hurt, where was he, and he gave up the game. He flat out failed. 

Even when Vegeta told him it was fine, Goku’s shame wasn’t alleviated or assuaged whatsoever. He could’ve meditated. He could’ve slept. He could’ve done _anything else_ , but his mind was sharp, awake and—just like Vegeta used to tell him—stupid. His mind was plain stupid and did a stupid thing. Vegeta swore they’d try again next time, and Goku swore in return that he’d be ready for it, especially since it was such a simple request. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall. A little after six in the afternoon. The last time they did this, only a damned hour had past. One hour left to himself and his mind broke out of sheer worry. 

His fingers lifted the black cloth up towards his face. 

This time, he wouldn't forget. He wouldn’t fail Vegeta again.

Goku closed his eyes and stretched the black cloth over, securing it tight around his head.

The pillow sunk around his head as he laid back.

The clock’s ticks. The sound of raindrops hitting the windowsill. 

His own breath. His own tempered, slightly shaky breath. 

Goku took in one long inhale and held it at the top.

On the exhale, he sunk further into the mattress, laying his hands palms down onto the bed, right by his hips. 

The darkness, the minimal sounds. His breath and his heartbeat. He listened. He let them fill in the wait, providing a soundtrack to his meditation. He focused on his breath only, his heartbeat only, and it helped, for a little bit. It helped keep the worry at bay. 

But then his lungs hitched. His heartbeat sped up. There was no other ki yet. Vegeta’s ki was nowhere to be found. And he was just laying there, blindfolded voluntarily, waiting naked, like a damned fool, when Vegeta could be delayed for some reason. A bad reason—

Or a mundane reason. A no-need-to-worry reason. 

His fingers twitched at his sides.

He fixed his breathing, drawing out every exhale, taking in even bigger inhales. He relaxed his fingers, his toes, opened and closed his mouth a few times to relax his jaw and his facial muscles.

The rain sounded nice. Soothing. Almost relaxing. 

Goku sighed. 

Stay calm. Relax. Wait.

He listened to the wind, the rain's fat drops splashing on glass. When the wind died down in power and sound, the rain would come in full force. Together, they created a natural symphony that lulled Goku into an almost dreamlike stupor, where he knew he was awake but still felt like he was asleep in some way. 

The rain sung on. The wind sung on. His heartbeat remained steady. His breathing maintained its tempered rhythm. The bed felt good. He felt good.

_Vegeta—_

Sudden ki. Familiar ki. 

Goku smiled, the remnants of tension disappearing at the sound of boots shuffling across the carpet. 

Vegeta’s voice echoed in the silent room. “How long have you been waiting?”

He cleared his dry throat before answering, “A little after six.”

A chuckle. A very pleased, very proud chuckle. "I'm impressed. It's almost eight." Hot breath falls over his ear. “You’ve improved. Are you up for it?”

Goku licked his dry lips with his dry tongue. He tried finding his voice, but all he could manage was a simple nod. 

Soft lips descended and pressed over his. Goku sighed and breathed in Vegeta, tilting his neck up. His body tingled all over, coming awake, just from the tongue curling around his own.

He lifted a hand up from the bed and searched out for the back of Vegeta’s head. His fingers brushed against some strands of wet hair—

Vegeta broke the kiss. “Hand down.”

Goku swallowed hard, returning his hand to his side on the bed.

A cold gloved finger pressed against Goku's warm lips, stroking them, slowly. Intimately. Examining the flesh there. Goku's breathing picked up. His chest pounded from his rising heart beat.

Vegeta’s voice, loud and clear, from above him. "You've been good. I like that." The gloved finger outlined his lips. Goku parted them wider—

That hand stopped. "Keep them natural. I'm not the fucking dentist."

Goku's breath hitched. He relaxed his jaw again, kept his lips slack and parted open. 

The finger moved again. Slowly. Leather grazed his skin, smudged his lips from side to side. Gentle, but Goku knew the power underneath that hand, from that one single finger. At any moment, with a flick of Vegeta's wrist, he could fuck his mouth with that finger. Shove it inside. Anywhere. And he’d let Vegeta do that. He wanted him to do that. 

That finger disappeared with a small flick to his bottom lip. His head lifted from the pillow, his lips blindly searching for that finger, for Vegeta, for his touch—

Vegeta’s sharp hiss stopped him cold. 

“ _Patience._ ”

He slowly laid his head back down to the pillow, his breathing erratic. Heat rose from his face, from between his spread legs on the bed. 

Something unzipped, falling to the floor in a heap. Another soon followed. Goku’s mouth watered at what could be—what Vegeta was doing, how Vegeta looked in this moment—and his fingers curled into the sheets as he sucked in his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. 

Another item tumbled to the floor. Footsteps across the carpet. Vegeta’s breathing. Vegeta’s soothing, familiar ki, circling the bed like a predator. 

“I think it’s time we act on what I wanted a long time ago.” Vegeta’s husky voice. “Especially since you’ve improved so much since then. What do you think?”

Goku released his bottom lip. He searched for his own voice and it came out as a soft, quivering whisper. “W-Whatever you want…” And he fell into his role for tonight’s game with his next words: “My prince.”

Vegeta chuckled like a demon seducing an angel, all temptation and passion, where no one can resist. The sounds go right to Goku’s hardening dick.

“That's right, Kakarot. Whatever I fucking want.”

The walls crumbled between them, forgotten for now in the privacy of their room. Goku knew this game well. But what Vegeta wanted from him, what Vegeta desired, he didn’t know, and he loved it. Craved the unknown, the challenge. He settled further into his role with each passing second, his heart pounding, his cock now at full mast. 

Vegeta’s ki registered near the side of the bed. So did his voice, which hovered somewhere above his head. 

“How much do you like my voice, Kakarot?” he asked.

Again, he struggled for his own voice, but it came to him quicker than beforehand, at least. It also wasn’t a whisper either, but higher in volume, though still weak. “A lot.”

“Define a lot. What do you like most about it? Give me an example."

Something popped open. Something squirted. Goku panted for air, his voice wavering at the smell of Vegeta’s hard cock hit his nose. “W-When you moan, or growl. Or w-when you tell me t-things.” 

“What things? Be specific."

“L-Like that.” Goku twisted his hands into the sheets, his body shivering, sweat collecting on his upper lip, his brow. "When you tell me w-what to do."

Vegeta chuckled the way Goku couldn’t stand without going crazy: smooth rocks on hard gravel. Cocky, arrogant, in control. The teasing monster of seduction.

"I bet you do, Kakarot."

Wet drops landed on his forehead. Goku flinched. Hot breath warmed his face. Vegeta above him, beside him.

Those lips, so close to touching the skin of his forehead. The heat of Vegeta’s body, looming over him. 

His words. “You like giving up control to me. Being my little plaything. _My_ fucktoy.”

Goku gasped hard, his hands yanking at the sheets.

That chuckle rumbled above him, the very vibrations touching his skin.

Hot breath over his parted lips.

"That’s it, Kakarot," Vegeta drawled. “That's what I want to see.”

Goku audibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. His neck arched up to Vegeta, to his voice. So did his lower back, clearing off the bed, tilting his hips to him, spreading his legs a little wider for him. Offering himself to this man. His prince.

Gloved fingers pressed down on his lips.

“Don’t say anything. Just listen.”

Goku's teeth chattered. He nodded yes.

Those fingers slid away, skipping over his lips.

That voice, loud and clear. Commanding him. Controlling him. “Touch your chest. One hand.”

Goku’s left hand unraveled from the sheet. He rested the trembling palm flat on his sternum. His heartbeat thump-thumped like a jackhammer.

“Run your fingers through your chest hair. Slow.”

He followed through, doing as he was told. Slow, so slow, so Vegeta can see it, the hairs parting, under his own fingers, under Vegeta's gaze.

His heart beated faster. Breathing erratic. His chest hurt. His face burned. His whole body burned alive from the inside.

“Drift it down to your stomach.”

His fingers tickled their way down to his quivering belly.

“Raise that other hand now.”

The other hand trembled like the first as it rested on his chest, over his beating heart.

"Now... pinch your nipple."

Those fingertips slip down and gingerly pinched his nipple.

"Harder."

Goku gasped, pulling at the flesh hard, pinching more, pulling more. 

“Yank it. Play with it. Roll it around.”

He followed the orders one by one. He yanked it. He played with it. He rolled it around through his fingers. He kept doing it again, and again, even when it hurt and he grimaced in pain. Because Vegeta asked him. Vegeta wanted this. And the pain felt good too. The pain was pleasurable. 

“Now the other one.”

He slid his fingers across his chest to the other nipple, already wrinkled hard. He arched his neck off the bed, his back curved into a beautiful small ‘c’, his ass squeezed taut and his hips jerking, when he gave his sensitive nipple the same harsh treatment.

"Play with them both."

His fingers worked hard. Pinch and pull. Yank. Rolling. Flicking his thumbs. Palming them. He hissed through his teeth, his hips thrusting blindly into the air, his lower back and lower belly cramping up, but it was so good, because he could smell Vegeta’s arousal, could hear his breathing pick up. Vegeta wanted this. Vegeta liked this. He was pleasing Vegeta with this, and he needed to do more, he needed to please his prince more. So he did more to himself. He sunk his fingers around one pec, squeezed it hard until the flesh molded around each fingertip. He bruised himself with each squeeze, each pull, rolling the muscle around as he thrusted his hips into the air. He pinched his nipple again, itching to use both of his hands on himself, but Vegeta didn’t say so yet, and he wasn’t going to disappoint him now. Not when he could smell Vegeta. Not when he could hear Vegeta’s breath pick up. Not when he could sense the faintest, tiniest moan from the man when he pulled and pinched at his nipple and cried out in blissful, sweet pain-pleasure. 

Gloved fingers touched his sternum. Goku gasped, shivering all over, as that hand roamed down his heaving sternum, from collarbones to belly. 

Then they left him completely. Left him before he could really enjoy that touch. 

Goku whimpered, involuntarily whispering aloud, “Please…”

The admonishment came fast. “I said no talking.”

He blubbered himself into silence, showing his apology with his body. He played both of his nipples with the same painful attention, his chest heaving, his heart pounding, his head turning here and there, sweat falling down his face, coating the pillow beneath him, dripping into his parted dry mouth and the corners of his shut tight eyelids. He did it again, and again, all for Vegeta, all until he could barely stand doing this to himself anymore, until his hips wouldn’t stop thrusting the air, until he felt dizzy and confused and completely, utterly lost and desperate for Vegeta, for his prince to do something, _anything_.

Gloved fingers dragged up the underside of his hard cock.

Goku whimpered again when they disappeared.

Hot breath on his ear. “Do you know how fucking hot you look right now?”

He moaned, his hips continuously bucking in a fluid rhythm. 

That laugh, straight from a demon. "I bet you want to touch me.”

Goku vigorously shook his head yes.

Mocking laugh. " _Really?_ I thought you'd want me touching you..."

Another whimper bled through his dry lips. Pain from his chest. Pain and heat from his hard, aching, leaking dick. Sweat everywhere. Hips lifting, up, down, ass clenched, balls tight, pleasure and pain, it’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s so good, it’s everything, _please, Vegeta, please my prince—_

Vegeta above him. His breath. His smell.

Gloved fingers roam the inside of his thighs. The left first, then the right.

“Lift your legs to your chest,” and Goku obeyed instantly, bending his knees and pressing them up to his shoulders, digging his lower back into the bed, all the while, his hand never stopped moving. 

Those fingers slipped down to his ass.

One finger, right there. Resting there. Almost inside. 

Cool leather, hot skin. Almost in. Just a tip. Just a little.

Goku pushed his hips down.

Vegeta removed his finger.

A whine ripped through Goku, his back arching clear off the bed, his whole body quivering in want and need, for him. For his prince. 

That laugh, that voice, again, on his ear.

“Slut.”

Goku gasped.

Hot, wet tongue on his ear. Licking the shell of it. Licking and tracking the outside of his earlobe.

Vegeta’s damned husky voice, right against his ear, rumbling out, “You taste _good_.”

He openly released a long whine-cry, turning his head to Vegeta. Desperate for a kiss. For a touch. For him.

Vegeta wasn’t there when his lips fish-gaped air.

"Touch yourself,” Vegeta hissed, and Goku listened, the hand on his chest flying down to his hard dick, trembling fingers wrapping and squeezing.

"Keep one on your tits,” Vegeta added, “I want to see you play with them,” and Goku obeyed. He did what Vegeta commanded, lifting the unused hand from the bed and took the pulsing, stiff fingers to his nipples. It hurt, all pain, little pleasure, but he did it, he yanked on them, pulled them, pinched them, all the while jerking himself off in slow, long movements. 

He situated his legs a little wider, sliding his knees further up on his chest, lifting his ass further up. Almost bending himself in half for Vegeta. 

The laugh, that dark laugh bubbling up from hell itself. So close. Vegeta was so damn close. He could touch him. Caress him, slap him, pull him around, push him here and there, and he’d take it all. He’d take anything Vegeta wanted.

That damned whiskey voice again, against his ear. “You want me, don't you, Kakarot?”

Goku mewled, pumping the hand on his cock faster, falling under the spell of Vegeta’s husky voice.

“You do. I know you do. You want me fucking you into the bed. You want me to pin you down and fuck you stupid. Maybe you want me to tie you up and gag you, fucking your tight ass over the bed, maybe the couch and the wall too. Maybe even outside so everyone can hear you—so they know how much of a dirty fucking _slut_ you are. You'd like that. You walk around outside bare ass naked to begin with. You like showing off to people. You like teasing them with this body of yours. Teasing me, huh Kakarot? Driving me so crazy that I lose my cool, throw you to the ground and fuck you hard like you _need_ it?”

Goku squealed as he came, his back a perfect arch, forehead planted into the pillow, his mouth wide open.

Vegeta clicked his tongue. “Bad Kakarot. I didn't tell you to come.”

He shivered, hands falling away from his body, mouth ready to apologize.

“Don't bother, slut. And I didn't say stop. Get back to work.”

Goku hesitated for a brief second before he complied. A sharp hiss followed by a pained sob echoed throughout the room when he touched his sensitive cock and played with his nipples again. The world slowly devolved around him. His senses centered only on Vegeta, on the pain and the pleasure. On this. Pleasing his prince. Needing to please him and him alone.

Those soft pleased whispers in his ear. That amused chuckle. “Good, Kakarot. Make yourself hard again.” He listened. He obeyed. It hurt, every tug, every stroke, every jerk of his cock and pinch and pull to his nipples hurt, and he loved it. His body twitched on the bed, his teeth grimaced in pain, his hands working himself back to hardness, and he needed this. He enjoyed this.

Vegeta’s breath on his face. Gloved fingertips, touching his cheek.

“Let go of that nipple.”

His tired hand collapsed to the bed, the other working his cock until it was fully erect again.

Gloved fingers traced down his jawline, down the side of his neck, over his sternum, then skipped over to the left. They pressed into one nipple. Goku cried out and then instantly muffled himself, biting down on his lips, sucking them in. 

Those gloved fingers scraped over his nipple back and forth. Pain shot down his chest, up his neck, and Goku hissed through his nose, settling into the pain, finding the pleasure in it.

The finger left him to then slide down one of his sweaty inner thighs. “I like seeing purple on you,” Vegeta said, and Goku gasped when those fingers pinched his skin, hard enough to bruise. “It looks good on your skin.” 

Then the fingers disappeared, only to reappear on his tummy, where his cum from earlier landed. They slip against the skin, slide it around, smudge it, almost scooping some up. 

They left again, and he could feel them in front of his lips. Hovering there. Waiting. 

His face burned when Vegeta said, “Taste yourself.”

Goku obeyed, parting his lips a little wider open. Two gloved fingers delved inside, and he suctioned his lips around those fingers, his need and desperation flaring up as he sucked hard on them. He circled his tongue around, needing to touch, to feel his prince in some way. A muffled moan slipped out of him as he bobbed his head, thinking of Vegeta's cock, wanting it there, inside of him, inside his body, tasting him, taking him, feeling him—

Vegeta yanked his fingers out. Goku's mouth scrambled for them, wanting them back in, needing that touch again—

He shrieked in pain when they shoved inside his ass.

They jerked right out before he could feel anymore pain. 

Then came that fucking laugh. Dark. So dark. A drawl. A monster, a demon, mocking.

“Too rough?”

He didn’t get to respond. One long, gloved finger slipped inside him—all the way in—and Goku bowed his head back, moaning on top of his lungs. 

It rested there. Not moving. Just there. Inside.

Goku bucked his hips, his hand losing its movement on his own cock. He squeezed his ass, panting for air, needing Vegeta to move, to do _something ._

All Vegeta did was chuckle again. Chuckle and whisper, “Mm, I like that. How you tighten around one little finger…”

Then that finger moved. It finally moved, slowly, thrusting inside him, little by little. Stretching him. Owning him, and Goku thrusted down with every thrust up into him, eager for more, desperate for more, needing his prince, needing this _so badly._

“Suck the fingers of your other hand, Kakarot,” Vegeta said, and Goku latched his mouth around his index and middle fingers, sucking them hard and long. 

The gloved finger slid out of him and he nearly sobbed in relief when Vegeta ordered, “Get on all fours.”

Goku scrambled around into position, his body tingling all over from orgasm and from his legs being stretched like that. His ass throbbed like his cock, like his head and his heart. Forearms and knees pressed down to the bed, his neck bowed. Legs opened as wide as they could, his cock hanging between, heavy and hard again, his balls taut and ready.

Gloved fingers tickled the small of his back.

"Finger yourself for me,” Vegeta said, and Goku obeyed, all shame and doubt gone. He fucked himself with two fingers, his neck thrown back, the small of his back bowed down, hips thrusting back into his own fingers.

Sweat everywhere, down his face, under the blindfold. It was slipping off, he could feel it unraveling, but Goku kept his eyes closed. Vegeta told him to not see. Vegeta wanted him to feel. Vegeta told him not to touch himself. And he wouldn’t fail him now. Not after getting this far. Not after what happened before. 

Gloved fingers tap the small of his back. “Enough.”

The animalistic, feral growl Vegeta released nearly made Goku come again. He slid his fingers out, thrumming all over. Needy. Ready. Desperate for his prince to take him, to possess him fully.

Those gloved hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise. The only man who could bruise him this good and this perfectly. 

Goku whimpered, spreading his thighs as far as he could.

In a choked whisper, he begged, “ _Please._ ”

Spandex against his ass. Armor resting flush against his back. Vegeta never took off his clothes. Vegeta was there, behind him, above him, fully dressed, with his cock just pressing against his asshole. Just a light, teasing pressure. 

It wasn’t enough. The image in his head of Vegeta fully clothed and clean, while Goku kneeled on the bed naked and dirty, drove all thought out. He heard his voice babble in a desperate plea, almost slurring his words, his mind separate from his body: “Fuck me, fuck me my prince, please, fuck me Vegeta, I need it, I need you, please fuck me, please, I can’t wait anymore, I need you, _please—”_

Then he heard it. The sweetest whisper ever.

“Go ahead.”

Goku moaned, tilting his hips back, impaling himself onto Vegeta. He moved himself up and down his prince’s cock, fucking himself on that dick, panting for air, clutching the bedsheets under him, throwing his head back while his tongue hung out from the side, the corners of his dry lips curled upwards. Pleasure washed over him, that burn inside released as well as increasing with every thrust of his hips back, every gasp and moan he released into the warm air. His prince was inside him. He had his Vegeta again. 

Gloved hands stilled his hips abruptly, squeezing hard. 

Goku hissed in pain, but he obeyed, stopping his movements. He trembled, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, his chin, down his chest, his cock leaking, balls hanging between his legs. 

Wait. Must... wait.

Sharp teeth grazed the side of his ear. Hot breath. Vegeta’s scent.

“Slut,” he hissed.

Teeth sunk into the skin.

Goku sobbed, almost wept from the pain. The pleasure. This man. Everything Vegeta had taught him. Everything Vegeta had given him. Three years worth of it. His prince. His Vegeta.

Hot breath wet his earlobe.

Gloved fingers bruised his hips further. 

He moaned when Vegeta whispered, “My Kakarot.” And he gasped when he added at the end, “My sweet _Goku._ ”

Then Vegeta fucked him. Hard. 

Goku lost himself to his prince. Succumbed to him fully. He shoved his face into the pillows as Vegeta grabbed his hips, jerked them up and fucked his ass as hard as possible. Pounding into it, rhythmic, hard, relentless, with all the strength a Saiyan like Vegeta harnessed, a strength only Goku could not only survive, but enjoy thoroughly, and he did. He loved it. Craved this moment between them, and he groaned, hips screaming in pain, knees scraping the top of the bedsheets, his breath and moans muffled by the pillows, and he loved _everything_ about this. Everything. 

Vegeta’s fingers, bruising him, hurting him, possessing him. The gloved hands, holding him steadfast, holding him there. Fucking him. Using him. Controlling him. Owning him completely like only Vegeta can do. The only one he could give himself up to, so he could be free. So he could just simply give in and not have the responsibility, the pressure, nothing on him but this. Nothing but Vegeta giving him this pleasure. 

He moaned, clawing at the sheets, ripped his teeth into the pillows, nails digging into whatever he can hold onto. He felt Vegeta, heard him, smelled him. Powerless to stop him. Not wanting to stop him.

Teeth marked his skin, bruised his neck, his shoulders. He didn’t cry out in pain but in pleasure. The pain washis pleasure. The scrapes along his sides, the pinches on his already purple nipples, the slaps on his ass, fingers yanking his hair, gripping his chin, holding his head up so Vegeta could snarl into his ear everything he wanted and needed to hear, and it drove him further towards that delicious climax only Vegeta could give him.

"Mine. Fucking mine. My Kakarot. All mine."

Vegeta licked his cheek, bit his jaw, jackknifed his hips into him. Balls slapped against his ass. Gloved fingers gripping his chin, bruising the skin. Gloved finger holding his hips in place, bruising the skin there. Marking him as Vegeta’s. Used by Vegeta. Fucked by Vegeta. Controlled by him. His entertainment. His fucktoy. Vegeta’s alone. 

Goku moaned, “Yours. My prince. Yours.”

That voice. That chuckle.

Teeth and lips and tongue, right on his ear.

"Come for your prince."

Gloved fingers wrapped and squeezed his cock. Jerked it, pulled it, owned it.

Vegeta. His hands. Inside. Around.

His Vegeta.

The pillow muffled Goku's shrieks as he came again, spilling into Vegeta’s gloved hand.

Blackness. Nothingness.

He floated in this blissful nothingness, aching everywhere, tingling everywhere. A good blissful nothingness. A safe, empty void where he could relax and not think.

Strong arms lifted him, turning him around. Goku’s limbs flopped like jelly, his arms and legs useless. His heart thumped like a racehorse, echoing in his head, and his breath labored with every inhale and exhale. His body shook, everywhere, out of his control. 

Gentle hands removed the blindfold. Fingers grazed his sweaty red cheek down to his chin. Bare fingers now. Vegeta's bare fingers.

Goku opened his eyes. Blurry vision, colors swirling all around. He blinked rapidly to clear out the tears gathered there.

Slowly, Vegeta came into focus. Worried, dark eyes. Some strands of wet black hair sticking to his forehead. Bare fingers petting his cheek and his hair and the sides of his neck, over and over.

"You okay?" Vegeta asked.

Goku nodded yes. The room spun. His voice felt raw from screaming, as raw and used as his ass felt. Exhaustion swept over him, and he whimpered, lifting a very weak hand up towards Vegeta. 

Vegeta smiled, and the sight never failed to make Goku smile back in return. 

He soon found himself laying on his side, spooned by Vegeta, who at some point had removed all of his clothes, probably when he was lost in that blissful nothingness. He sighed, pressing back into him, laying a hand over Vegeta’s on his belly, his heavy, tired eyes falling shut. 

Three years later, and Vegeta will always kiss him like this when they're done. He'll kiss him, pull the sheets over them both, wrap himself around Goku like a blanket, kiss him again and again and whisper all the words Goku needs in this moment. Words in their native Sadalan language.

"M’yo mah’kha. M’yo r’sha. D’in m’yo, m’yo Kakarotto."

_My mate. My beloved. Thank you, my Kakarot._

Goku succumbed to sleep, listening to that soft voice whispering to him, murmuring, the vibrations lulling him into a place of safety and pure comfort. A place only Vegeta could give him. A place he never would’ve known, if it wasn’t for his Vegeta taking him there, all thanks to some silly little game.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I can write non-smutty things too! I swear it! I just... have very smutty muses, I think, lol.


End file.
